Eönwe in Utumno
by prec1ous pen
Summary: Eönwe is descending into the pits of Utumno after the War of Wrath to free the prisoners. Rated for dark scenes and (suggested) torture.
1. Chapter 1

Hi there! Enjoy my story!

Disclaimer: I wish I did but I don't own any of the recognisable names, places and events.

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Eönwe walked down the dark corridors of Utumno with a group of fellow Maiar under his command. His fána was able to see through the darkness and choking smog of the fortress without much difficulty, but he wished it wasn't, for what he saw truly filled his heart with horror and sorrow.

After the war was won, they had gone into Utumno with the intention to search it for more foul beings and free its prisoners. Currently they were wandering in one of the giant pits that even he could not see the bottom of, it was so deep within the ground. After their victory, they did not have time to rest and recover, they had to dispatch parties of soldiers into the pits of Utumno, as the prisoners they were overjoyed to free would starve fast. Eönwe did not realise at the time that those prisoners will likely never truly be free of their experience.

And nor would he, he thought, as he walked down further and further into the hot pit that reeked of rot and smoke.

The black walls of what the dark lord would refer to as a fortress were of roughly cut stone and hastily crafted metal, blackened over time by the thick, choking smoke that cascaded from an unknown source in the pits into the open air, veiling the sun and the stars from shining on the atrocity that Utumno was. There were black metal holders for torches at roughly regular intervals, spikes sticking out of them as some twisted form of what one could call decoration. The spikes were matted with dried grime and some other things he wished he would never be able to identify, as were most parts of the walls and the floors.

When they entered the fortress, he tried to step around the _things_ on the ground. There were faeces in some places, as well as what was clearly dried blood on top of layers and layers of dirt, grime, and probably more blood. Red as well as black. The worst were the rotting pieces of things that he could not identify. Some were still moist, although blackened already, some were dried to the ground and shrunk. After a while, he realised that his attempts at not stepping into these vile things were fruitless and only distracting him from the task at hand: find survivors and take care of any evil maiar, beast, orc or other disgraceful thing Melkor has made.

They have only been in the fortress for about twenty minutes and were quickly descending to what must have roughly been two hundred feet underground. They knew that the lower one went the more dangerous and horrid things one would encounter, which is why they left the top portion of the fortress for the Children to search through, while the Maiar delved deeper into the appalling fortress. Up until not, they have only found a few council chambers along with many rooms for storage of weapons and supplies, as well as some halls crudely cut from stone and bare, with a few things scattered on the floor here and there, as a broken hilt of a knife, a piece of rough lint and a torn article of clothing. They decided it was most likely a barrack for the orcs to sleep in. _Strange_. _No beds, no furniture, no possessions. Just the scattered remains of broken things. And that is what they were first: broken and tortured beyond recognition, their fëa diminished and their minds corrupted until nothing but a foul, imitation, twisted to spite the Children, remained._ This thought made Eönwe hate Melkor even more, if that were possible at all.

After having swept the room with their eyes and finding nothing, the group of Maia decided to break into smaller units to hasten the search: more than two hundred floors still remained.

Eönwe prayed to Eru for the safety of the Children that were held captive and enslaved in the monstrous dark fortress. He only hoped they could get to everyone in time.

He did not know yet the extent of the horrors the Children have been submitted to by Melkor.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi there! This is chapter 2. I will write some more fics detailing more on what Eönwe saw that day. Feel free to leave a review! I feed off of them.

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The Maia walked down to the floor under them. He paled at the sight in front of him. Instead of torches, carcasses were held to the walls by metal clasps that dug into their rotting flesh. The entire floors walls were littered with bodies. Some still fresh, dried blood under them still red, others starting to decompose, with the metal clasps sunken into their blackened flesh. They were all marred. Some few with mere cuts and gashes, others entirely distorted to the point where he would not be able to distinguish the parts of the body, were it not held in some semblance of form by bones.

The walls have turned a rotting shade of black around and under the bodies. The floor in their proximity was layered with built up muck, grime, blood and probably some rotting, dried pieces of what once was the hora of a Child of Iluvatar. Eönwe felt his heart clench at that thought.

He walked down the long corridor until he came to an open space hewed into the wall of the fortress. It was like a small room, but with only three walls and one side entirely open towards the corridor. At first he thought it was a storage room of some sort: open for all to quickly take what was needed. But when he came closer and the curve of the passageway no longer hid what was inside, he saw for the first time the horrors the prisoners have been subjected to.

Inside, the small room was packed with square cages from the bottom to the top. The cages were small enough that a grown person would need to draw up their knees and hunch their backs to fit. Inside them, there were heinous, naked things. Things, yes. For the Maia could not describe them as people, for people they were no more. The soft light he let his fána emit in this dark place shone gently onto the cages, and as on cue, the beings in them pressed themselves into the farthest corners of their restraints.

Their backs were hunched so far that it's top was permanently above their heads, the bones in their backs sticking out. Their frames were disfigured and thin from starvation. Their heads were bald or held only a few strands of hair of what used to be luscious locks. Their form reminded Eönwe of both a fragile bird and a mad, starved wolf.

The Maia felt his heart clench and anger burned inside him towards Morgoth with more intensity than before. How could someone do this? And why? Especially someone who has come to Eä to aid the Children! He let his fëa survey the damage of the fëar of the former elves and men in front of him. To his horror, he felt none. Their fëar were gone. Melkor has made them into empty shells of base emotions of hate and fear. Utterly crushed by the realization, he had to fight to hold back a tear of anger and pity. He knew that these beings were now even past the skills of the Feanturi to heal. He could do nothing. So with pity in his heart he left the site and continued his quest to find some whom he could save.

Wedged between a rotting body and a skeleton held together by dried pieces of tendon, with little pieces of broken ribs that have come loose littering the ground under it, there was a wooden door. He opened it and knew whatever was inside was not going to be pretty, but he could never have imagined what he would see.

The room was empty, save from a chain hanging from its middle. The only other items in the room were various wips on the ground and on a small planck. The ground and walls was covered in festering, red and rotting layers of dried blood. In some places the grimey layers became too heavy to stick to the stone walls and peeled off, revealing just how thick it truly was. How many people's hora's fluids were in this room? Hundersd? More than that? How could anyone do this? Eönwe could no longer bear the sight and turned away.

The Maia saw many worse things before he finally reached the levels of the cells where the prisoners were kept. Things that he wished he'd never seen and that would keep him awake at night for many years to come.

When he reached the prison levels, his heart had already lost hope of finding anyone that could be saved. Opening the first door, he saw an Edain boy, no older than nineteen perhaps. He was laying on his back on the filthy floor. His hair had thinned and his nose was bowed to the left, it had been broken and not set. His naked form was covered in layers of scars and burns, with fresh ones on top of already fading ones. He shuddered in fear as he heard the door open, and only stopped being terrified when Eönwe assured him he will not hurt him.

The herald continued to check the cells, but he soon realized there were simply too many of them. And since he was quite sure there were no dark, lurking dangers in the levels of the cells, he summoned a group of Edain and Eldar so they could help free the thousands upon thousands of imprisoned people.

He did this with great heartache, as he knew did not want the Children to witness these cruel destructions of hora and fëa, but he saw in that not even the group op maiar could get to all the slaves in time before they starved.

Many prisoners have been saved that day. Many were lost beyond hope. And many minds have been scarred forever by the sheer sight of what Morgoth was capable of inflicting. Eönwe prayed to Eru to heal these tortured minds, both of those who only saw the torment and those who actually lived through it.

This day of victory has been a day of loss and terror as well. But at least the war was over.


End file.
